


Half Strength Distress

by MellieLovesYorks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, BAMF Lance (Voltron), Beta Hunk (Voltron), Beta Pidge | Katie Holt, Eventual Shklance, Fluff, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Lance (Voltron), M/M, Matt Holt - Freeform, Multi, Mutual Pining, Omega Lance (Voltron), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn, eventually, fake beta lance, lotor sucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-24 11:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellieLovesYorks/pseuds/MellieLovesYorks
Summary: Lance loves being an omega. But, unfortunately, society does not love that Lance is an omega.Still, society's beliefs have never been enough to keep Lance from doing what he wants. So, he fakes his way through life as a beta. He attends the Garrison, meets his best bro, discovers his sworn rival, and becomes the blue paladin of Voltron, all while ignoring his true dynamic.However, as the fight between the Galra and Voltron intensifies, tensions begin to run high on the castle ship and Lance finds his situation becoming increasingly precarious. With his supplies running low and feelings of insecurity developing, the young omega discovers that both his secret and his position are more important to the fate of the galaxy than anyone ever imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever, and I'm super excited and nervous! My updates will not follow a schedule, but I will try to get another one out soon. This fic does occur in an a/b/o universe with minor violence, but no triggers yet.
> 
> This chapter is unedited, so there may be grammar/spelling errors.
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos, as they mean the world to me!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Mellie

Lance complained. It was just a part of him, as ingrained in his biology as his omega dynamic. He complained about training exercises and he whined about the condition of Keith’s hair. He protested against team bonding and moaned about the deteriorating state of his once perfect skin. Which, by the way, was now home to the three pimples living along the bridge of his nose. Still, no matter how much he groaned and grumbled, Lance truly and wholly loved his job as the Blue Paladin of Voltron.

He loved Blue and he loved Hunk and he loved Pidge. He loved being an omega. He loved flying among the stars with the freedom to spin and twirl and race. Sure, he definitely didn’t love Haggar or Zarkon or the Galra Empire in the sightless, but he loved Voltron and that was enough. In fact, despite all of his teasing comments on awful hairdos and strict rules he might even love the two-

 _No._ Lance cut himself before his mind wandered to the two alphas he most certainly did not think of as more than friends. The two males on this ship that Lance wanted, more than anything, to pull him close and hold him. But he couldn’t let himself think like that because those two people _(Who were definitely not Keith and Shiro, thank you very much)_ were happily in love. Sure, their relationship was a smidge awkward at first, as an alpha pair generally didn’t make it long in the dating scene, but they were making it work, and Lance had promised himself that he **would not** get in the middle of that. Plus, besides Hunk, no one on the team even knew Lance was an omega. He might love his dynamic, but society generally did not.

Hunk insisted that the team wouldn’t care, that his status wouldn’t change how the acted around him, but Lance remained in hiding. People always claimed that modern society didn’t discriminate against omegas anymore, that all dynamics were equal, but as only 1% of the population, omegas often discovered those claims were just as untrue as Santa Claus. Stereotypes of weakness, stupidity, and possession had been bestowed upon omegas for centuries, and they were not easily altered. In the most recent century, arranged marriages and omega auctions had become illegal in many countries, but the illegal trafficking of omegas was still largely prevalent. It was true that omegas were more submissive, requiring touch and craving affection, but as the caregivers, they were also fiercely protective of those they loved. It was also true that every six months, omegas went through a heat. Nowadays, heat suppressants could be prescribed to suppress the hormones causing the neediness and fever.

Lance knew he was equal, fiercely believed really, but he couldn’t stand to tell his team, to see the judgment in their eyes. He couldn’t even bear to bestow the secret onto Coran or Pidge, both of which were betas and the two he had grown closest to on his journey through space. Following that, Lance never even dreamed of telling the three alphas on the castle ship, Shiro, Keith, and Allura. It wasn’t that he feared their strength or domination, but more so their opinion and his position. He felt bad about lying to Allura, but he was certain that if she learned his dynamic, then he would lose the spot as the blue paladin. So Hunk remained the only one who knew.

Hunk was the one to who cuddled Lance sometimes at night. He was the one who helped hid his dynamic at the Garrison. And he was the only one Lance trusted. What could he say, Hunk was his bro. His brother from another mother. The large Samoan beta was the only person Lance could trust.

 

The omega was busy coating himself with a clinical strength scent blocker when an alarm blared throughout the castle. Lance scrambled to dress in his armor, pulling on the black undersuit, then the breastplate, leg pieces, and forearm guards, all striped with white and blue. He reached for his bayard at the last moment and sprayed the aerosol blocker on himself as he ran out of the room. Lance targeted the area around his neck, hoping that his scent glands were sufficiently disguised.

This alarm better be fake or a short mission, Lance wasn’t sure how long the half-assed spray job would last. At least he had the time to take his suppressants.

The Cuban raced out into the hallway, chucking the aerosol can behind him. He dashed urgently through the halls, skirting tightly around the corners to avoid crashing into the hard castle walls. Lance hoped he wasn’t too late, the princess was beautiful and all, with her long flowing white hair, but he didn’t believe he could stand another tongue lashing from her about his ‘failure to pay attention to even the most simple commands’. The spaciness Lance displayed steamed from his suppressants, the hormone changes they caused resulted in a few side effects, for example, the failure to pay attention. But it wasn’t like Lance could tell anyone that.

Instead, he pushed his legs to move quicker as he neared the bridge of the ship, where Allura and the rest of the team were most likely already located. Lance focused on slowing his breathing, calming himself down. He could do this, he could be a beta, he could fake out his friends, his team, even the whole galaxy if needed. After all, the omega had nine years of practice. He was beginning to convince even himself.

Just a few quintants ago Lance had nearly forgotten to take his suppressants. Even as ingrained as the routine was in his brain, Lance had truly believed, for a dobosh, that he was a beta. Pushing the memory out of his mind, the Cuban attempted to forget how much that moment scared him. He was an omega, and omegas were good. Omegas were equal. He was equal, even though he couldn’t show it. Lance was fine, he was equal, he was just as great of a paladin as his team.

 

Lance tried to also forget how many times he had to repeat that phrase to himself every day.

 

The door to the bridge of the Castle of Lions slid open as Lance neared it, letting him pass through the entrance. Inside, the team gathered around Allura, forming a semicircle where she stood looking down at a brightly lit screen. Lance counted the ensemble, falling one short. He scanned the group. Pidge. Pidge was absent from Hunk’s side, where the beta usually stood. She probably stayed up late last night, busy with video games or her never-ending mission to find Matt. Lance internally preened, proud of his speed. That’s right, he wasn’t last. For once.

Hunk caught Lance’s eye from across the room and beckoned him over. Shiro spun around to face the omega, nodding at him. Lance smiled back, hoping the dim lighting and his dark skin covered his rosy cheeks. Now at Hunk’s side, he offered the large teen a fistbump. Hunk responded eagerly.

“Hey, Hunk. Do you know what’s going on?” Lance questioned.

“No, but I hope it’s not serious. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt,” Hunk responded, a little worse for wear.

“Me either. I’m starving. I hope this is all a drill, then you can cook me up something that tastes better than food goo.” Lance smiled at Hunk, hoping to lighten his mood.

“Well, how about you listen to Allura. This may be serious,” Keith growled, never one for mornings. Somehow, his already bad mode worsed. Lance rolled his eyes, as if that was even possible. Still, he liked Keith in the mornings, when his eyes and hair looked a little softer, a little adore-. Nope. He was cutting off that thought like it was Marie Antoinette and he was a guillotine.

“Sorry, my body decided it needed nutrition. I don’t exactly think that’s my fault,” Lance argued back. Hunk looked into the conversation in concern, Shiro just shook his head. It really was too early for an argument with Keith, but something about him just made Lance fiery inside.

Keith was readying himself to bite back at Lance when Shiro’s came down heavily on his shoulder.

“Keith, don’t,” He commanded, with a little more force in his voice than normal. Lance felt the itch to lower his head, display his neck. Hunk’s reached for Lance, pulling him back. When the omega looked up at him, his concern was more urgent than before.

“Fine,” Keith growled, stepping away from Lance’s position. The tension in his shoulders remained. Shiro slid his Galra arm down Keith’s back and Lance had to look away. The moment was too tender, it burned him inside.

Hunk frowned at Lance, who was about to reassure the beta, when Pidge burst onto the bridge, startling everyone from the tight feeling left after the argument. Her hair was ruffled and wild and dark circles sat under her eyes. Lance was correcting in figuring the green paladin had received little to no sleep the night before. She walked over to stand beside Lance and Hunk, smiling at the two. It didn't reach her eyes. That meant no developments in the Matt case. Lance's omega itched to reach over and console the depressed girl, but he tightened his hand into a fist, pulling it close to his side. He couldn't. A beta wouldn't. He wouldn't.

Allura looked up at the screen, casting a wary look around the group. Lance felt like her eyes lingered on him more anyone else. He frowned. He hadn’t last today, there was no reason for Allura to be frustrated with his actions or behaviors. Lance glanced at Keith, who was still standing close enough to Shiro that his back brushed against the black paladin’s impressively muscular chest. Okay, so maybe there was one or two reasons.

“Well, now we can begin,” Allura began, turning to face the group with a tight-lipped smile. Lance set his broad shoulders back, readying himself for another day saving the galaxy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team finds themselves in the middle of some unforeseen problems. Lance deals with a struggle of his own. Pidge's height is insulted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a new chapter for the new year!
> 
> Once again, my work is unedited.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! Please leave comments or kudos as they mean the world to me!
> 
> -Mellie

In all honesty, the mission was supposed to be quick. A simple in and out diplomatic meeting arranged to grab the coalition a new ally. Lance had been excited, to begin with, his natural charisma made royal processions a walk through the park. As Allura ran through the itinerary of the mission, Lance found himself relaxing. The lack of beta smell on his skin slipped from the forefront of his mind.

Their potential ally, a group of small mountainous planets centered around a compact star, wished to meet with the paladins on the urgent notice that their young ruler had returned home for the time in many phoebs. The system was the newest military power in the area, dubbing themselves the Surreȃ Conference. During the short period in which Surreȃ had existed, only a year in Earth time, their army and air force had raided and sabotaged three mid-class Galra cruisers. Even Keith was impressed by the combat abilities of the Conference. 

Allura divulged that she found the sudden emergence of a mighty anti-Galra system and royal family suspicious, but, never one to display wariness or weakness, the alpha princess agreed to a personal meeting with the newly materialized royal family. Despite her tentativeness, Allura was pleased with the opportunity to gain such a valuable ally in her fight against Zarkon. The rest of the paladins looked onto the mission with a bit more suspicion. Keith, Lance figured, just wanted to know how the Surreȃ managed to bring down three cruisers.

“That will be all paladins. Now, head to your lions, the royal family are operating on a tight schedule. It would benefit the coalition to not waste their time with silly behavior,” Allura dismissed the group. Once again, Lance felt the princess’s eyes linger on his face longer than necessary.

The group split off, running to their zip lines. Lance always felt as if this was one of his favorite parts of being a paladin, sliding down a cord to his lion like a bird returning home to his nest. He was flying in a sort of sense.

Once inside Blue, Lance settled, more grounded in his piloting chair than anywhere else in the Castle of Lions. Blue was his home away from home, the warm interior and shimmering navy accents remained Lance of Valero Beach, of his home and family. He supposed that Blue’s cockpit was his nest, even though Lance never collected any sort of clothing or blankets or random dirty mismatched socks that smelled like pack to stock inside her. Nesting was a natural function for omegas, even those on suppressants. Lance knew this, and he always found himself a safe space where he could build a nest, but felt like assembling the structure was too dangerous, too exposing, so he buried the instinct. Lance rarely felt the itch to nest anymore, it was so far gone.

It was always possible that Blue knew Lance’s secret. The two consciences formed a deep connection and, even though the lioness never spoke in words, Lance felt her whispering in the back of his mind, uttering comforts to the hidden omega. Her wispy blue thoughts trailed through his mind, offering words of condolences when Keith and Shiro were especially touchy during training, or when Voltron landed on a planet with a vast warm ocean that looked a little too similar to Cuba.

The five lions fell into formation as they flew from the opened mouth of the hanger. Allura followed behind in Pidge’s modified shuttle.

Shiro landed Black first, touching down before a shining picturesque glass city. The other five ships followed, fitting themselves in around the largest of the lions.

As Lance stepped out of Blue, he was in awe of the structures before him. The other paladins fell silent at the sight of the architectural masterpieces as well. They seemed almost transparent, light filtering through a million windows and streets. The light bounced away from the city the sharp, straight lines of the city, illuminating the rocky mountainsides the building perched on like a colony of eagles. The fortress of glass defied gravity and clung to seemingly nothing. Finally, at the top of the glimmering city sat a regal palace, a royal one just barely touching a steep wall of stone.

Once Pidge caught sight of the palace, Lance could have sworn he saw the tiny beta swoon.

The shock of the city wore away eventually, but the sharp glass buildings remained just as daunting. Lance couldn’t help but imagine what one wrong step could lead to. Most likely a quick fall to your death. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, he would be sure to watch his step while traipsing through the streets.

At the light of the city faded, Lance noticed a group of Surreȃ nearing the paladins; the others noticed the parade at the same time. Hunk glanced at Lance nervously for a second, wary of the approaching party. Lance smiled back with confidence and the paladins assembled themselves to stand in straight line, Allura at the forefront. Hunk took his position to the left of Lance, Shiro to his right. The black paladin was followed by Keith and Pidge.

The aliens approached Voltron with swagger. The Surreȃ were tall and visually genderless, their skin bearing a natural glowing tint much like the city they homed from. The party contained around ten people, a few guards and well-dressed officials.

Allura stepped forward to great the tall person who had risen to the front of the approaching group. He stopped a foot short of the alpha, running their eyes up and down her body. The alien was dressed formally, a collar sticking up their tongue throat and a regal cape flowing behind them. Their clothing all bore varying shades of white.

Lance couldn’t smell a dynamic on the person, but he suspected an alpha, no one else could approach Allura with such pomp and circumstance. She radiated with too much control. Shiro was curious as well, sniffing the air every few seconds or so.

“Allura of Altea, we welcome you to Littsur, the central planet of the Surreȃ Conference. The royal family has been anticipating your arrival for quite some time now. I am Soln, the advisor of the King,” Soln spoke, their eyes fixed straight on Allura. It was a challenge to her power, a question to whether she would turn her gaze away and offer submission. Hunk had stiffened at the advisor’s words, the great formality of his speech. Lance stared at Soln in confusion, this man seemed very adamant to intimidate Allura, to undermine her status. What an ass.

“As the Princess of Altea,” Allura placed extra emphasis on her royalty, “I am honored that you are considering Voltron as an ally in the fight against the Galra Empire. I hope we can establish a means of agreement between our forces.” Shiro fidgeted as the princess talk, shifting in front of the group slightly. His natural alpha status pressed him to push forward and take control, to ensure that his pack was safe from the posturing alpha in front of him. The release of alpha pheromones was enough for Lance’s omega to force him to rock pack on his heels, unconsciously pulling behind the group.

“Well, we shall see. Unfortunately, the royal family and their advisors will be unable to meet with the paladins of Voltron today, as their schedule has been filled with an unforeseen event,” Soln informed them in a stone pessimism. The news shocked Lance and Hunk. Allura acted generally unaffected, only the slight smell of frustration reaching Lance’s nose. He figured she had expected a delay, especially based upon the way Soln had greeted her upon arrival.

“That is no inconvenience to us, we are free to return tomorrow if that would greater benefit the royal family,” Allura responded. It was clear now she was prepared for Soln’s weak excuses to avoid negotiations. Lance frowned at the Surrneȃ, suspecting ulterior motives.

“That would be well suited to the family’s taste. They would also prefer if you remained on the planet’s surface for the night, as they wish to make you feel welcome.” Lance was certain that the royal family did not care in the slightest about the comfort of the paladins of Voltron. He was also certain there was definitely something else happening on Littsur.

“That would be acceptable.” It was Shiro who spoke this time, stepping forward to make his place known alongside Allura’s overbearing command. Soln shifted his eyes from alpha to alpha, dragging them as if they weighed a hundred pounds. Lanced stepped into Shiro’s old spot, gaining a new view on the political interaction occurring before him.Keith shifted as well, placing himself closer to his boyfriend.

“Ah, very well,” Soln paused. “You must be Takashi, the Black Paladin of Voltron. The commander if I remember correctly.”

“You are not mistaken,” Shiro assured the man. Lance rolled his eyes, sharing a look with Hunk. Alpha posturing was so boring, the eye contact and formal statements and wide stances. It was all so bland and scripted. Lance would bet money that he could predict the way any alpha confrontation would lead. 

Hunk rolled his eyes with Lance, as uninterested in the conversation as the omega was. Instead, he busied himself by staring at the pretty diplomate in the rear of the Surreȃ parade. Lance pretended he might have a chance with the alien, ignoring the way no one ever held his attention like the men standing beside him. He pretended harder when Keith reached forward to discreetly run a reassuring hand down Shiro’s back. And he kept on pretending until the focus was shifted away from Shiro and onto the rest of the group.

“Ah, and here we have the rest of the paladins.” Soln brushed past Shiro, stepping into Keith’s space. The red paladin stared angrily at the man despite their vast height difference.

“The red paladin, part Galra based on what I’ve heard. Then little green, the tech genius, and yellow, an engineering mastermind. Of course, let us not forget about blue.” Lance tittered at their comments.

“Yes, I’m Lance, Voltron’s sharpshooter.” Lance stuck out his hand. Soln made no move to shake it. Instead, they returned to their own party, ignoring the blue paladin completely.

“Now that introductions have been made, you can follow me. I will escort you to your accommodations.” Soln turned walked toward the city. They didn’t check to see if Voltron was following.

 

“Well, I’ve got plenty of things to complain about right now, but this room is not one of them,” Pidge said as she flopped down on the massive bed before her. She was right, the room the Conference provided for Voltron was amazing. Inside lay six beds, spread evenly down a long wall. Windows looked out on the city from the other side of the room, offering views of the sun setting behind a distant mountain range.

“Oh, poor Pidgey. Are you still upset that Soln called you little?” Lance joked, running to jump onto his own fluffy mattress. The beds were built to be huge, most likely to accommodate the abnormal tallness of the Surreȃ.

“Shut up McClain, I’ll bite your feet off,” Pidge threatened. Lance smiled at the irked beta.

“Language,” Shiro reprimanded.

“Sorry alpha,” Pidge apologize, looking away guiltily.

“Hey, not that I’m all for teasing Pidge, because I am,” Pidge growled, “I just wanted to know, what was all that back there? Voltron has been through many diplomatic greeting, but none have been like that. What was all the posturing for?” Hunk asked, flailing his hands around in confusion.

“It’s a display of power. The Surreȃ Conference is trying to make us feel weak, uncomfortable. That’s why we’re staying here tonight, away from home. It’s also why there was so much posturing, Soln was hoping to intimidate the alphas.” Keith rested against the wall of windows, his hands crossed over his chest as usual.

“Your correct Keith. While I cannot say for sure the reason behind the excessive display, it would be in our interest to remain cautious. This royal family is not to be trusted. They wished to intimidate us and we must try our best to remain strong. It is too late to back out and Voltron cannot afford to be manipulated,” Allura explained.Shiro nodded in agreement.

“I could smell no dynamic on Soln, but I am certain they were an alpha. One set on not backing down,” Shiro explained.

“That must be why they cut off the conversations with you and Allura so quickly and refused to engage with Keith. It was in order to avoid admitting defeat,” Lance pieced together. It was no secret the alphas of Voltron were powerful. Shiro and Allura both held positions of high command and Keith’s Galra half did nothing but enhance his alpha nature. Of course, this was just great for Lance, you can enough trouble hiding himself from regular strength alphas, to begin with.

Allura dismissed the paladins, allowing them to relax. Hunk found his way over to Pidge, where the two embarked on an elaborate discussion behind the engineering behind the glass city. Allura contacted Coran back on the castle. Shiro and Keith wandered over to an unclaimed bed, sitting down together. The two talked quietly. Lance sat alone on his bed, mulling over the day. Even in a room filled with his closest friends, he still felt alone. A true seventh wheel. He sighed and laid back on his bed. Shiro appeared in his line of sight a minute later.

“Are you alright Lance? You smell a little off,” Shiro asked softly, a gentle smile hinting at his lips. Those lips, those beautiful pink lips that Lance would very much like to kiss and kiss and kiss. It took a moment for Lance to knock himself out of his Shiro induced trance. Shiro was still looking down at him. Damn gorgeous alphas and their concern for packmates.

“Oh, I’m fine Shiro. I’m in tip-top shape, just worried about the condition of my skin since my products are all back on the castle.” Shiro rolled his eyes at Lance and backed away. Lance cringed at his words. Why did he always make himself out to be an egotistical maniac?

“Alright, just wanted to make sure.” Shiro smiled again and Lance nearly blacked out. God, why did that man have to be so infatuating? He had amazing dark eyes and high cheekbones and a jawline to kill for. Shiro seemed to believe that his scar ruined his beauty, but Lance only saw it as another display of his strength and bravery.

Shiro returned to Keith’s side. The Korean boy glared at Lance with his eyebrows drawn tightly together. Right, Shiro was Keith’s boyfriend, not Lance’s. He had no right to stare at him like that. The two alphas were happy, they didn’t need Lance. Lance wasn’t meant for them. It was sad but true. He wasn’t wanted and wasn’t needed, so it was best to  **stay out of their way** . Lance was lucky enough to be in Keith and Shiro’s pack, to begin with.

The omega dismissed his self-deprecation and prepared for bed, stripping away his heavy armor and craving between the sheets with only his undersuit on. Allura, Pidge, and Hunk fell silent as well. Hunk stopped by Lance’s bed for a minute, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. The contact settled his omega slightly.

It was after Hunk walked away and the other two alphas had fallen asleep that Lance realized this mission was going to suddenly become much more complicated. Complicated, because Lance’s suppressants and scent blocker were both thousands of miles away, floating up in his room on the castle. Suppressants he could manage a day without, but in the morning, Lance’s suit was going to start smelling suspiciously of omega. Shiro was already catching differences in his scent. It would only be a matter of time before the rest of the team, and the Surreȃns, caught on as well.

Lance rolled over in his bed, praying into the fabric of his pillow. Not only did he have deal with a session political debates with dubious intents, but his on coming scent as well. This mission was going to be anything but simple.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's problem becomes real, Keith had pretty eyes, and Pidge is sleep deprived. Plus, is something wrong with Soln?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone! I'm super excited for this new chapter, but, first, some news!
> 
> School is starting up again for me, so chapters new chapters will probably be posted only once a week.
> 
> Also, for this fic, the vlogs never happened.
> 
> Remember, please leave comments and kudos if you enjoy my work, as they mean the world to me!
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Mellie

Lance woke before the other paladins, releasing himself from a night of fitful tossing and turning. He laid beneath the covers for a while as the sun rose over the mountains in his periphery. Lance wondered what it would be like to grow up surrounded by the towering hills. He bet the Surreȃ had great legs from all the mountain climbing they did. Really muscular. Probably not as great as Keith’s though. Or did they mountain climb? Maybe living in a valley where mountains where your only view turned you off from the idea of scaling rocks for fun?

Lance couldn’t imagine growing up among the towering hills. He felt trapped already, like one breath or one step would cause a landslide that would send the entire city plummeting to the basin of the valley, killing everyone in the process. Wow, nice thoughts Lance. Totally not morbid in the slightest.

After a while, the omega began to fidget again, rolling over to sniff his pillow every second or so. He was certain faint traces of salt and sand and ocean and water lingered on the pillow. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks, but the smell seemed to thicken with every second. Lance could nearly see the scent as it began to waft around the room. This was not good, this was very much not good. Lance liked his scent, it reminded him of his home and his mother and the warmth of being cradled in her arms as they sat in the warm sand of Varadero beach, bathed in the light of the setting sun as steaks of dark blue and pink painted the sky above them, but pretty much every other person in the world loathed his smell. His own father complained at one point that the saltiness that followed Lance stung his nose. Real confidence booster Dad. Omegas were meant to smell of fruits and candles and well-flavored teas, not salt water.

Lance tip-toed his way of the elongated mattress, pulling a blanket with him. He kept the blanket pulled up high around his neck to cover his scent glands. His natural aroma trapped itself in the thick white fabric. Lance found himself crouching at the head of Hunk’s mattress, tapping the teen on his shoulder rhythmically.

_ One tap. Pause. One tap. Pause. Two taps. Pause. Two Taps. Pause. Three taps. Pause _

Hunk woke up once Lance reached five taps at a time. The beta startled at first, surprised by Lance’s closeness. Lance supposed it also from the comforter he was wearing as a cape. Hunk calmed down quickly and blinked his eyes rapidly, clearing away the fog of sleep.

_ “What?” _ He mouthed. Hunk stayed silent. Lance guessed he had picked up on the distress on behind his eyes.

The omega drew a symbol in the tight spaces between the boys. A circle, with two tails. Ω, the Greek letter omega. The two had been using the symbol to communicate for years. If Lance looked off during a lecture at the Garrison, Hunk would catch his eyes and draw the symbol. If Lance needed something from Hunk, he would scrawl the letter on the last page of his engineering textbook.

The beta sat up in an instant, flinging the white heavy sheets away from the bed, Hunk reached gently for Lance’s elbow. Lance settled into his grip as the two marched toward the bathroom, the omega still swathed in cream fabric up to his neck.

Hunk shut the door gently and eased the deadbolt into place. It slid silently.

“So, what’s going on?” Hunk crossed his arms over his chest. His left hand found its way to the tail of Hunk’s headband, fiddling with the ribbon. It belonged to one of Hunk’s mothers. Lance couldn’t remember which one.

“We have a code red. Well, I have a code red. A really really bad one. Like, this could be the end of Lancey Lance as we know it. This time tomorrow I might be dead in a hole or maybe floating in space or maybe locked up in a space jail. Do they have those? Space jails, I mean. Or maybe they would ju-,” Lance rambled. The Cuban paced around the narrow space of the bathroom, tangling his feet in the blanket around his shoulders. Eventually, his stumbled into the counter.

“Woah. Woah! Lance, are you alright?” Lance shook his head vehemently. Hunk maneuvered the boy to sit on the counter. “Okay. Okay. What’s wrong?”

“To start off, I’m down here on Planet Piles Of Rock and every single belonging of mine is rotating around in orbit,” Lance explained. His voice was small and crackly, cautious of the four sleeping figures on the other side of the door.

“So? You can last a day without suppressants.” Hunk quirked his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I’m worrying myself into a panic about.”

“Huh?” A beat. “Oh. Oh!”

“So, you understand why I want to die now?”

“Yeah, I mean, you aren’t going to die, but I get it.” Hunk gestured for Lance to peel away the fabric from his neck. “Here, let me have a smell.”

“Hunk, this is bad. This could be the end. The end of my time as the blue paladin. If anyone, anyone knows, I could be gone.” Lance attempted to force urgency into the larger teen before him as he dropped the cape off his shoulders, but Hunk remained calm, ready to care for the omega.

“The situation really isn’t that horrible, Lance. You didn’t shower or sweat yesterday, so most of your scent blocker is still on. I can barely smell you bleeding through.”

“Still Hunk, you can smell me and it is only going to get worse. I can’t afford to take those odds. Plus, alphas can detect scent stronger than betas and who knows how well the Surreȃ can sniff out omegas!” Lance panicked.

“Okay, calm down. Allura said this meeting should be quick, we’ll be off the planet before anyone even notices something's off,” Hunk reassured. Lance’s face dropped further.

“It’s too late for that. I think Shiro is already detecting shifts in my scent.” Lance ran his hand down his face. Hunk groaned. Lance held up a hand to silence the beta.

“Alright. That...complicates things, but we can still make this work! We just need to find something else to hide your scent with.”  Hunk patted Lance on the arm. He looked around the bathroom, searching.

“Hunk, you’re not going to find a scent blocker just lying around.”

“We don’t need a scent blocker. We’ll just...just...we’ll just have you wear my shirt for a while!” Hunk exclaimed, pulling the shirt he had brought down from the castle over his head. He forced the garment down over Lance’s head, fluffing up his hair. He groaned bed head was horrible enough already.

“I don’t think this is going to work. Your shirt is not going to be enough,” Lance groaned, already imagining how he was going to break the news to the group. Let them figure it out? Explain and run? Write a letter and escape in Blue? Or maybe he could just die now?

“Well, we’ll switch sheets too. That way your bedding won’t smell like omega and my scent will take over for yours.” Hunk reached over to pat Lance again, a plan forming in his mind. Lance winched.

“I won’t smell omega, but I’m going to smell like you and only you. How are you planning on explaining that to Shiro and Allura?” Lance argued. Maybe the team would let him stay on the ship and clean or something. Lance tossed the thought away. Sure, he thought being an omega was great, but what were the odds everyone else would too?

“I’ll make something up. Look, Lance, this is the only way,” Hunk sighed, now reaching to hold the narrower teen in his arms. Lance leaned in and nodded silently against his chest. The beta lowered his head to rest over Lance’s, covering him nearly completely.

The two exited the room soon after, finding the rest of their friends still zonked out, or so he hoped. They swapped the blanket around Lance’s shoulders to the one on Hunk’s bed. The Omega had turned to crawl back into his bed when Hunk caught him swiftly by the arm.

“Lance,” He whispered. “You could just tell them. They wouldn’t hate you. I promise”

“Not now Hunk, not now.” Lance departed from the yellow paladin’s grip thinking to himself,  _ not ever _ .

 

Lance was able to squeeze in two or three more hours of sweet, delicious sleep before Allura’s was blaring at him to wake up. He slipped in and out of consciousness for a few moments, stuck in the grey zone of not really being away. The omega shot up five seconds late, startling the princess standing at the foot of his bed. She gave him a strange look.

That would explain why her voice was so loud and echoey.

Lance leaned down a moment later, burying his nose into the fabric of his comforter. Hunk’s natural scent still clung to it. Lance silently thanked every god he knew of, praying that the scent would linger for the remainder of the day.

Across the room, Shiro and Allura stood fully dressed and discussing quietly. Keith sat on the edge of his bed, twirling his Marmora blade in his glove-clad hands. Lance had to look away, anymore blade twirling and things would have gone from bad to worse. Hunk glanced at Lance from his bed. The beta held up his own blanket in a questioning manner. Lance nodded reassuringly. Lastly, Pidge, who was nothing more than a lump under her sheets, appear dead to the world - or galaxy. Lance smirked.

The Cuban pulled Hunk’s shirt back over his head and waded it up into a small ball. He aimed for the Pidge sized lump across the room and hucked the wad of fabric. It hit the lump straight on the back.  _ Bingo _ .

Pidge shot up, glaring venomously across the room. Her hair stuck up all around her face and Lance couldn’t find the strength to stop himself from laughing.

“Lance McClain, you are so dead!” She threatened. The girl stepped out of her bed and marched over to Lance.

“Who me? Why would I throw Hunk’s shirt at you from all the way across the room? I don’t have a death wish.” Except, Lance kind of did have a death wish. Anyone who messed with Pidge had a death wish. For such a tiny girl, she sure did have a temper.

“Lance, Pidge, do I have to remind you about the importance of this mission?” Allura’s eyebrows rose in accusation, an alpha tone bleeding into her question. Lance felt the need to drop his head, lower his eyes in submission. He only barely stopped himself.

“Sorry princess, just trying to lighten the mood,” Lance joked.

“You’re plenty light enough already, Lance,” Keith groaned angrily from Lance’s left. The omega couldn’t decide if the comment really was an insult or compliment. He picked insult, but only to prevent himself from swooning under Keith’s piercing gaze. Those purple grey eyes did things to Lance and his downstairs. There was something about the way he looked at people that demanded attention, Lance’s attention specifically.

“Alright Paladins, we have been invited to join the royal family today for breakfast before negotiations begin. It is extremely plausible that this meal will be used as a time to discover Voltron’s weaknesses. It is in our interests to remain guarded during this meal. Do not reveal anything regarding out research on Galra technology or other allies unless absolutely necessary. Do not expect for the Surreȃ to treat you kindly. I would not trust them,” Allura informed the paladins with a stern face a tight-lipped smile. Shiro stood behind her, nodding along to every grim statement she made. The alpha stepped up to speak next.

“The invitation was not sent until early this morning, long after we retired to bed. It is likely that the message was sent at this time in order to make us late to, or even possible absent from, breakfast. It would seem as if the Surreȃ and the royal family are simply waiting for Voltron to make a mistake, something that would gift the Conference leverage. We do not intend to give them any,” Shiro conclude.

“Not the most inspiring speech ever,” Lance whisper into Pidge’s ear. He could have sworn Shiro frown deepened even further.

 

The paladins readied themselves for the day ahead quickly, fixing hair and layering on stiff pieces of armor. Lance stood in front of the long bathroom mirror, fixing his hair. Keith stood two sinks down, brushing his teeth with a foamy toothpaste. Hunk walked in, casting a concerned look at Lance. The omega brushed off as Hunk discreetly passed him a tube of deodorant underneath the counter. 

The Cuban sent a look of thanks to the other boy and applied the scented paste. It wasn’t the best solution in the world, or even close to it, but Lance was willing to take what he could get at this point. Shiro called for the paladins to assemble in the hallway and Lance and Keith scurried out of the bathroom. Lance was sure to keep his distance from the alpha’s inquiring nose.

Soln was standing in the hallway outside the paladins’ room, as tall and stiff as ever. Their face was nearly translucent in the artificial lighting of the building. Lance thought the Surreȃ looked unhealthy, sick even, but it was hard to determine the welfare of an alien species you had known for only a day. Lance peered around the group, taking notice of Soln’s thin wrist and scaly hands. Interesting. He stashed the observation away for late.

“If you would please follow me, I will escort you to the royal dining hall,” Soln said, speaking to Shiro and Allura, who stood at the head of their group. Lance really didn’t believe that Soln wanted to say please. From Keith’s tell tail stiffened to Lance’s left, the red paladin didn’t believe him either.

“Not especially fond of the Surreȃ, are you?” Lance asked. Soln began to lead the group down a long glass hallway lined with windows taller than most houses on Earth.

“No, they are stubborn and secretive,” Keith responded. The Korean boy’s jaw tensed.

“Well, that seems kind of hypocritical,” Lance teased.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Keith, you’re just as secretive as the Surreȃ, so you have no right to criticize them,” Lance explained.

“I’m not secretive!” Keith shouted. Hunk turned back to look at the two, turning away again only a second later, unimpressed by the argument breaking out between Keith and Lance.

“Dude, last week I asked you what you had for lunch and you told me, and I quote ‘What I had for lunch is none of your business, Lance’. That seems secretive to me. And suspicious. Like what if you were eating one of Allura mice? I won’t ever know because you’re secretive,” Lance explained, tossing Keith a reprimanding side eye as followed Soln.

“I didn’t eat one of Allura’s mice! And, I’m not secretive, I just like space,” Keith growled. The group turned out of the hallway, emerging onto a marble street. Up ahead, a large palace stood on the mountainside, a steeply inclined bridge leading up to the front door. The steps were easily as long as Lance’s shins.

“Fine, if you’re not secretive, then tell me one. A secret, I mine, something I don’t already know about you,” Lance pushed, inquiring at Keith. The teen looked away, startled by Lance’s sudden demand. His face faltered for a moment, the joyful grin of a petty argument falling. Keith stared intensely at the palace before him as the group climbed the marble steps and Lance wondered internally if he had crossed an unspoken line. One that guaranteed no one ever ask about Keith’s personal life.

“My mother left me when I was just a little kid. I never saw her again,” Keith spoke, quite enough that Lance was worried he miss heard the alpha.

“Oh,” Lance echoed in the same whispery tone. The omega was startled, expecting Keith to state something small or insignificant. Not this. “Thank you for telling me.”

Keith deflated next to Lance. His shoulders relaxed a folded in. When Keith finally turned back to Lance, gratitude hung heavy in his eyes and, once again, Lance was trapped inside of them.

Or, rather, he would have been if the doors to the glass palace were not swinging open to expose the most extravagant hall Lance had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Keith and Lance bonding there at the end!
> 
> The plot will really begin to take off next chapter, so be ready! That pesky Surreȃ Conference really is up to something!
> 
> -Mellie


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group has breakfast, Lance finds a pattern, and Shiro gets close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and left kudos on my story! You are all amazing!
> 
> Sorry it took so long to upload this chapter, school is really whipping my ass right now, but I'm starting to settle back in, so updates should come more frequently.
> 
> My chapters are still unedited, so there will probably be grammar and spelling errors.
> 
> Once again, please leave comments and kudos, as they mean the world to me!  
> -Mellie

Just inside the hall stood a glittering royal scene. The empty cavernous of the room was draped in gems and minerals, a cavity coated in a million blue and pink mirrors. Each of the stones spun lightly, reminding Lance of carousel bulbs. Along the ceiling ran a slab of obsidian stone, flowing down the distance of the hall before is arrived at a curved wall. There, the obsidian trailed down the structure as a black soulless waterfall. Light flooded the large antechamber and reflected from the shining solids dripping down the walls. In the center of the room stood an elaborate cortege of dozens of stern, concave faces, each features their own display of garish fashion. The royal court matched the vestibule they had positioned themselves in an oddly suiting manner. The Surreȃ swam in their gauzy ropes and jewels and elaborate head chains and bathed in tones of soft blues and creams and silvers and ivories. Behind their beaded webs, pallid waxen faces echoed across the room, all drawn with tight ashen expressions.

Lance ducked his head away from the blinding light of the hall, the white beams only dimmed by the never-ending darkness of stone hanging above his head. Tilting his head to the left, he found that Hunk and Pidge had acted in much of the same matter. Eventually, the central figure of the display stepped forward, prompting narrow pillars of light to spiral around the room like a silver themed silent disco.

The Surreȃn leader (Queen, Prince maybe?) wore a complex headdress of thin grey chains over their dark eyes, blue beads dusting along their sharp cheekbones, each drawn with taut skin. Lance couldn’t tell if the leader was walking or not, as they seemed to glide of the reflective floor. The slender alien offered their hand forward.

Shiro reached his long arm, the warm human one, in response, a gently polite greeting. The alpha’s fingers barely grazed the palm of the unfamiliar leader, hands parting quickly. The action was routed more in discomfort and unfamiliarity than posturing. At least Lance hoped that was true. Still, the omega trusted Shiro for more than just the man’s overbearing dynamic; he was one of the best diplomats allied with Voltron, bested only by Allura. Lance had his moments, sure, but who could really compare to the glory of alpha negotiations, especially a Princess and a prodigy? Lance certainly couldn’t.

“I am Aesh the Prince. The royal family and I welcome Voltron to our regal hall. We hope that only peace shall be formed from these important speakings,” Aesh spoke in a whispery voice. Lance felt entranced by the melodically of the voice, a tone so different from the monotony of Soln’s terse sentences. Was it normal for pitch to vary so greatly throughout the Surreȃ?

“We thank you Aesh for granting us this meeting, any enemy to the Galra empire is a friend of the Voltron Alliance. We hope the Surreȃ Conference can join our ranks. I am Allura, the Princess of Altea. These are our paladins, Pidge, Hunk, Shiro, Keith, and Lance,” Allura responded, ever the image of formality.  _ Once a royal, always a royal _ was the general philosophy Lance had about the female alpha.

Aesh slowly introduced the rest of their court, who mostly looked like a museum of stained glass figurines to Lance. The names were too complicated for his human ears anyway. Eventually, the Prince and his court lead Voltron through the hall of glass and light, stopping at the obsidian wall. There, a door appeared out of the sleek polished stone, rising out of the pure blackness. Inside, a long table with chairs too tall to sit Pidge correctly was positioned along another wall of glass looking over the mountainous city. The room glowed less than the previous hall, but only slightly.

Lance was starting to wonder if the Surreȃ knew what privacy was.

The court and Voltron took their seats, Aesh placing himself at the center of the table, rather than a single end. The court flanked the Prince. Voltron took the other side, Hunk, Lance, Shiro, Allura, Keith, and Pidge. From Shiro’s left, Lance thought he could spot the cloaked form of Soln as they stood in the far corner of the room.

“The Conference was greatly anticipating the arrival of Voltron and took the liberty to develop a contract of agreement. Inside, we have outlined the provisions of our alliance. Normally, an agreement of this...magnitude would be a simple decision for the royal family, but at this time I am afraid a few points must be topics of discussion,” Aesh informed, a display of the contract appearing on the table in front of the Paladins and Allura. Lance frowned at the right in front of him. The sentences were formatted oddly, unnecessary words placed every few lines, almost like a miss-translation. Why would a document of a formal royal court have language mistakes in what could be the most important alliance of the Surreȃ Conferences’ existence? Lance clicked through the pages, his eyes catching on a few sections: medical distribution, military aid, and Conference expansion. Hunk breezed through the document quicker, but Lance could almost here Pidge making notes on every paragraph. Sometimes he really hated that green goblin’s brain.

A meal was quickly brought out into the glass conference hall. Silent waiters placed chiseled plates in front the table’s occupants. The fine stone was echoless against the polished service of the table, and Lance wondered if plastic even existed in the Surreâ Conference. He shrugged away the thought, the Royals probably didn’t like to eat off factory-made goods. Lance, if he could afford it, probably wouldn’t either.

The food was strange and cold, but Hunk enjoyed the local cuisine so Lance kept his mouth shut and counted the meal as a win. It was almost better than food goo. Still, seeing the yellow beta gobble down his food reminded the omega of his freak out earlier, and, subsequently, the fact that Hunk had probably saved his life. No one even batted an eye at Lance’s heavy smell of warmth and cinnamon, he smelled enough like Hunk on a normal day.

Breakfast talk was rather uneventful, mainly posturing between the masked Prince Aesh and the alphas of Voltron and Pidge asking borderline invasive questions to the royal family about the gravity-something-or-other about the city. Hunk fawned over food and culture and Lance took a shot or two at the figure in front of him, but flirting with a concealed stranger who spoke mainly in noises wasn’t too much fun, especially not with the two men of his dreams sitting less than six feet away, so Lance spent the rest of the meal scanning through the contract, checking his scent for any note of omega, and eavesdropping on Shiro and Keith’s conversations. They both held a tone of authority in their voices when acting as diplomats, deep and strong, a tone of alpha that Lance couldn’t help but imagine himself under. Occasionally, Keith’s voice would fire with anger, raising in volume and filling with passion. Shiro was always right there to respond, his orders steadfast and unwavering in pitch. Lance could listen to the two talk all day if given the chance.

Lance kept his eyes on the alliance, scanning the miss typed paragraphs. The medical supplies list was particularly descriptive, whereas other sections skimmed over fine details. He took of these oddities, leaning over to Hunk.

“Did you notice how short the emergency response section is? I mean, for the amount of work placed in other sections, it seems a little strange,” Lance whispered to the beta, who had been engaged in a conversation with a soft-spoken Surreȃn across the table.

“I’m sure it’s nothing Lance, but if you want we can bring it up with Shiro. If anything is wrong, he’ll be able to catch it. For now, you just worry about, I don’t know, not sweating or smelling strongly in any way?” Hunk reassured. It wasn’t exactly the answer Lance wanted, but Hunk was right.

“That’s not how it works, Hunk,” Lance sighed.

“You could always-”

“No, you know that. Just, stop bringing it up and stay close.” Lance ran his hand over his tanned face. Hunk cringed and reached out with a gentle touch to the Cuban's arm.

“You’ll be fine Lance,” Hunk reassured and the omega nodded, something settling inside of him at the comfort.

“Lance, Hunk, it’s time for a break,” Shiro informed the two paladins. When Lance looked around he found that the royal family had exited the room. He must have been wrapped up in his conversation with Hunk. The two stood. Lance tripped over his chair leg and stumbled into Shiro’s chest. The alpha righted him and Lance’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“Are you alright Lance?” Shiro asked, his hands still firm on the omega’s arms. Lance nodded hurried and backed away. Shiro couldn’t catch his sent, he couldn’t, Lance couldn’t stand to see that look of disappointment, of shame, when he realized was Lance was, what he is. The look his family had when he presented. Lance would never forget the pain in his father’s eyes at the sight of his failure of a son.

But this wasn’t the time. Shiro smelled only Hunk and fake beta as Lance stepped away. In reality, Lance knew it would never be time, Shiro would never find out and Lance would never see that  **look** he was all too familiar with, the one that burned at a piece of his heart. But it didn’t matter, Lance was fine, he was, being an omega was fine, even if everyone hated him for a dynamic he couldn't control. He was fine.

Lance dragged on behind his pack, trailing in Hunk’s shadow. Allura lead the group through another glass hallway and stopped in a small conference room. The alliance contract was projected along a black wall.

“Well, I was skeptical going into the meeting, but the Surreȃ have made a rather compelling impression. Their contract seemed thorough and complete, I see no complications with signing it and confirming our alliance with the Surreȃ Conference.” Allura took a position by the front of the room, speaking to the paladins. Hunk and Shiro nodded along with her statement.

“I scoured the document, no signs of forgery or loopholes. I don’t like the Surreȃns, but they have a solid plane and some wicked mastery with gravity-defying buildings.” Pidge shrugged, leaning against the wall furthest from Allura. Lance kept scanning the document, something wasn’t right, it was off. If only he could put his finger on it!

“Guys, I think maybe we should look over the contract again, just to make sure,” Lance said, never tearing his eyes from the illuminated black wall.

“I didn’t see or hear anything wrong over breakfast, but we can glance at the plan again if you want.” Shiro turned to Lance, crossing his muscular arms. He spoke down to the blue paladin, almost in an insult. Lance shrugged disheartened, this document wasn’t right. Why have miss translations? Why so much focus on medical supplies? Why did Soln sound and look so differently from Aesh and the others?

“Lance is right, we should look into the contract deeper. I don’t trust the Surreȃn any more than I trust the Galra.” Keith spoke from behind Lance, shocking the entire room. The omega spun around on his heels, facing the red alpha. Keith was supporting Lance, he was beginning  **nice** to Lance.

“Really Mr. Impulsive? You don’t want to jump into something?”

“Yeah, so what? The Surreȃn could be plotting against us, we can’t afford to take that risk.” Keith shrugged, but his jaw was set in a sharp, angry line. Lance spun away from Keith, a smile wide on his face. He knew Keith meant nothing in the agreement, but Lance’s omega didn’t know that and was internally preening at Keith’s attention. The Cuban mentally slapped himself.  _ Get your head in the game, McClain. _

Pidge groaned in protest then hauled herself off the wall. “Reviewing won’t do any harm, and we do have some time before meeting with the court again.”

The team jumped into motion, each reading and re-reading every section of the document. Pidge rambled on about the gravity stabilizers the city used to stay attached to the mountainside and Hunk butted in occasionally with a fact or two about Surreȃn culture. Apparently, the Surreȃn lived for a few hundred years and reproduced very slowly. Keith and Shiro stood further down from Lance, talking in muted voices. Lance pretended not to notice the stood close enough together to brush arms, completely enclosed in each other’s space and scents.

Instead, he focused on the pages projected in front of him, the long list of resources needed and planets recently added to the Surreȃ Conference. All planets further and further away from the front line. That wasn’t right. Lance ran through the other pages, his mind buzzing, something was off and he was finally, finally understanding it all.

“Guy. Guys!” Lance shouted. Shiro and Keith’s eyes snapped to him, worried the Cuban beta of their pack was hurt.

“What Lance? What’s wrong?” Shiro asked, caring but a little annoyed.

“I get it now. I know what going on!”

“What’s going on?” Pidge asked, her head tilted in confusion.

“The Surreȃns, they’re sick. In fact, they might be dying!” Lance shouted, his minding was racing, it was all falling into place.

“Sick? Like with a disease? Lance, I don’t think-” Allura questions. The group was panicked now. They circled around Lance, standing with arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. The omega could smell confusion and doubt in the air, the scent of annoyance rolling of Allura as well.

“Yes, like a disease or space cold or something,” Lance reassured the group.

“Okay...how do you know?” Pidge questioned, a little amused. Lance huffed and prepared to explain himself. He could make important discoveries too, okay!

“Well, I first noticed it this morning, when Soln came to pick us up. They were pale, almost translucent and their hands were all weird and dry. I thought maybe that was how all Surreȃn were, but then we arrived at the palace,” Lance paused for a moment, “When we met the court, I was surprised by the face masks, because no one else wore them, right? Then, Aesh started talking and his voice was so different from everyone else's. Later, at breakfast, when we all received the contract I noticed all these strange small instances of miss translated words or descriptions in places they didn’t need to be, like the contract was made last minute. Of course, then there is the fact that the medical section is twice as long as all the others, not to mention the fact that the Surreȃn Conference has been expanding only away from battles,” Lance rambled, flicking through pages and throwing up his arms as he spoke.

So, what does that all mean?” Keith frowned at Lance.

“Well, Soln’s infected. Actually, the entire population of this planet, or system, might be infected. That’s why Soln looks so strange. It also explains the reason behind the masks of the royal court, to hid who is healthy and who is sick. Aesh, obviously, is healthy, it’s why he sounds to different from the other Surreȃn. A sickness could also explain lack of dynamic or scent. In the contract, it explains the requests for excessive medical supplies. The disease must also have happened recently, that’s why there are miss translated words in the contract, the Surreȃn have not been planning an alliance with Voltron, they’re making this deal out of necessity. Finally, the Conference is expanding away from the Galra because they’re too weak to fight right now. They need an escape plan if the Galra come knocking.” The team looked on to Lance with awe, eyes alight with new knowledge. Hunk flicked through the contract, pointing out ever example Lance referred to.

“So, the Surreȃn are dying and looking for help, not alpha posturing,” Pidge concluded.

“Well, what are we going to do about it?” Lance asked the team, scanning their eyes. Behind the group, a brilliant star rose from behind the edge of a tall mountain and filled the room in white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, a little bit of a cliffhanger!
> 
> What do you think is going to happen next!
> 
> -Mellie


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith yells, Lance thinks, and Aesh talks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, with an update? It's more likely than you think!
> 
> Sorry for not updating! I got super sick about three weeks ago and was in and out of the hospital for a little while. I'm just now getting better, so I'll be writing more. Anyway, I thought it would be nice to get a chapter up before season five drops. Once again, thank you for all the comments and kudos, they mean the world to me! Please keep them coming!
> 
> However, I do have a few things to clarify. This fic will have shklance, but not for a while. I want HSD to focus on Lance's character and self-esteem, as well as the war against the Galra. There will be fluffy romance later, but not for the moment. I want to world build for a while first.
> 
> Also, the Surrea are genderless, so I refer to Aesh as they. I might have made a few mistakes, but I tried to stay neutral. 
> 
> As always, my writing is unedited.
> 
> That's all for now, but I hope everyone enjoys Chapter 5, as well as season 5!
> 
> -Mellie

“What the hell was that,” Pidge yelled as the light dissipated from the room. The group is shocked enough that Shiro doesn't even correct her cursing.

“Ah, I think I know what the phenomenon was. This planet, Surreȃ, orbits two stars, one of which is much closer than the other, thus causing a brilliant white light wherever it shines. Surreȃ orbits rather quickly around the second sun, so the light is limited.” The paladins' node in understanding and Lance scrubs black dots from his vision. Stupid blinding astral body.

“The flash of white was also are signal,” Allura pauses, “We now must return to the court, the council awaits our decision after the flash of light, and they do not like to be kept waiting.”

“Um, well, I don’t know if anyone remembers, but didn’t we just uncover, like, a giant ploy? A massive undercover plan to completely end the Voltron Coalition? I feel like maybe we should be more concerned about that.” Hunk gestured wildly to the screen displaying the contract. There the pages stood, each with their own set of glaring highlights and notes. The alliance mocked the paladins.

“We can’t let them get away with this! The Surreȃn double crossed Voltron! Without Lance pointing out the flaws, Aesh could of single-handedly ended us! If that was even Aesh!” Keith reached for his Bayard, ready to march out into a fight. His pheromones flooded the room, anger hanging heavily in the stale mountain air. Lance inhales become shallow, careful not to bare his neck. Hunk shot Lance a concerned grimace and shuffled a little closer to the suffering omega, hoping his own natural scent would assist. It didn’t, but Lance appreciated the action none of the less. Shiro rested his hand on Keith’s back and whispered small comforts. The smaller alpha relaxed. The air cleared and Lance felt his brain clear along with it.

Pidge rolled her eyes and gagged quietly at the display. “Gross.”

“Look, I know I’m awesome for discovering this and all, but we can’t all storm out there -  **Keith** \- and start punching. We might have discovered what’s going on, but we have no proof.” He gestured at the screen, flailing his hands. “It's all circumstantial evidence.” Lance shrugged, crossing his arms.

“Lance is right. If we storm out gun blazing, we’ll be arrested and sent to, I don't know, space prison? We need the full story,” Pidge agreed, scrolling through the documents on her datapad. Lance didn’t even remember Pidge pulling it out. Keith grumbled and settled back, but his arms remained tightly wrapped around his torso. Omegas were always pegged as the emotional dynamic, but  _ man _ alphas were touchy.

A knock rang at the door, altering the paladins of their time situation. Hunk’s eyes flashed in concerned and Pidge startled, tucking away her datapad.

“We need to go, what’s our plan?” Pidge asked.

“Play it by ear?” Lance suggested.

“I don’t think we have any other options. Just pay attention and alert the team is anything seems strange, anything at all. We can no longer play into the hands of the Surreȃ!” Allura spoke, her alpha taking a bit of control.

“Of course, Princess.” Shiro nodded, standing tall alongside Allura. The knock rang again and Allura dashed toward the door, pressing a pad for the panel to swing open. Soln towered on the other side of the doorway, his frame tall enough to occupy the space. Lance could feel the other paladin’s eyes dancing along the Surreȃn’s translucent skin, the dry scaliness of it. It was obvious now, the way they hunched in with skin drawn thin and tight. Soln was no image of health. Everyone could see it now.

“The royal court is ready for a decision if you would please follow me.” Lance didn’t think Soln meant the ‘please’. The group followed anyway. Lance crowded into Hunk’s side, close enough that Pidge and the alphas wouldn’t hear.

“Can you smell me?” Lance asked into Hunk’s shoulder. The man was so large he dwarfed Lance’s frame, standing over a head taller.

“Only if I search for it, but if you don’t want anyone to know, we’ll need to leave soon. Otherwise, you might enter heat in the middle of the conference hall,” Hunk said with a small laugh in his voice, hiding the concern buried just under the surface. Lance didn’t laugh back. It wasn’t funny.

“Hunk,” He whined, the man still pushed close to Lance as they walked.

“What are you two whispering about. First Keith, now Hunk? What are you hiding Lance?” Pidge popped up on the other side of Hunk and Lance shot back. Hunk crinkled his eyes in confusion and Pidge continued to pear, Her eyebrows raised suspiciously at the Cuban.

“N-Nothing. Just some good ol’ gossip with my best bud.” Lance patted Hunk’s shoulder and she rolled her eyes. Hunk was lost.

“Fine, you’re just acting more Lance than usual.” Funny, Lance was acting more like himself than usual. He scoffed. More omega than usual. He had nearly **lived** with Pidge for years, and she still had no idea who the true Lance was. Only Hunk knew and he would probably be the only one.

“What was that about?” Hunk asked when Pidge slipped away again.

“Nothing.”

Some things Lance kept from even Hunk. There was no need to burden him more.

 

The Surreȃn architecture awed Lance the as much the second time. Crystalline glass windows and hanging beads lined the walls. Lance felt blinded by the light, the Surreȃn illusion. The room was a picture, preserved to be looked at, but ruined once touched. Voltron had reached into Aesh’s royal picture and the masterpiece shattered like glass. Every bead and stone and gem and window had fallen down the mountain in one avalanche or noise and sharp edges. Lance didn’t know what yet remained on the other side of the glass, but he was certain he wouldn't like what he saw. No one decorating with this extravagance of gems was telling the truth. A diamond was a one-way mirror.

Shiro and Allura sat at the center of the table, across from Aesh’s elaborate headdress. The ridge of their nose peaked through the web of chains. It was all bone. The faceless head turned to Lance, eyes unidentifiable. There was something unnerving about being stared down by an omniscient figure. Lance wondered if Aesh could see him, read him, at all.  _ Oh god, please don't be able to read minds, _ Lance thought. Aesh remained still. No telepathy then. 

Hunk settled next to the omega and the royal figurine turned away, the chains of beads clinking in their movement.

“The royal family has reached their decision. We hope that your...resolution matches ours.” Gone was the untouchable regalness of the court, leaving only a bumbling young prince hoping to disguise his uncertainty with a mask of thoughtfulness. The one on their face did a better job.

“Unfortunately, I believe you would find the opinions’ of the paladins quite opposite from your own. I make a formal request to continue the delegations between out two alliances, with the end goal of achieving a common agreement.” Allura excelled in fancy diplomatic talk. Lance could charm his way into the hearts of the more unsophisticated beings, but when it came to the complex arts of hierarchy and posturing, Allura’s experience in royalty and her alpha nature came more in handy. Still, it wasn’t like Lance wanted to flirt with anyone on Surreȃ, to begin with. He wasn’t the most useful. He never was.

Lance pushed the thought away. The risk of becoming self-conscious now was too great, if he was insecure, he was susceptible to his omega instincts of preheat. If the Cuban fell to preheat now, things would get messy.

“That is...unfortunate. I was hoping this convention would be a quickly completed one.” Shiro perked up at the awkward phrasing, no one was missing the clues now. 

“I’m afraid that will not be possible.” Allura flicked a copy of the treated along the interactive display of the conference table. “As you can see, the paladins and I have identified a number of questionable segments of the treaty. Until these issues can be clarified or resolved, there will be no agreement between the Voltron Coalition and the Surreȃ Conference,” Allura said. The opposite side of the table visibly stiffened at her words.

“I find no problems in these documents, can you please specify the issues you speak of?” Aesh responded, a tense cord in their voice.

“Well, for one, you’ve requested a crazy high amount of medical supplies while offering little to nothing to Voltron. What makes you think we would ever agree to this?” Keith asked, sitting forward.  _ Oh no _ , Lance thought.

“I believe the Surreȃ Conference had plenty to offer you, Red Paladin.”

“Like, what? You’ve been misleading us this entire time! In fact, everyone on this planet is lying!” Keith stood. His chair shoots back. Lance cringed. It was like watching a train wreck, and Lance couldn’t look away.

“That’s enough Keith!” Shiro bellowed, a growl in his voice. Lance subconsciously lowered his head in submission. What was with all the displays of dominance today? Couldn't a poor omega get a break?

“Please excuse us for a moment Prince Aesh. We hope you will consider the information now brought to light.” Allura excused herself and the remaining paladins. They followed the alphas out of the hall and Lance could of sworn he heard Pidge snickering behind him. Usually the Cuban would join in any opportunity to tease Keith, to try to have some connection with half of his crushes, but he was fighting a mental battle with pheromones currently.

“Keith, you can’t lash out on royalty as it is, the situation is fragile enough already!” The group had stopped in a side hallway, where Shiro crowded into Keith. The air was thick with alpha.

“I know. I know, okay!” Keith screamed back. “I just get so angry. There no better than the any of the Galra's minions at this point.” Allura and Hunk hovered awkwardly. Pidge frowned and typed on another datapad, always moving on to the next issue. Lance had to think, he would bet everything he had (which wasn’t much, mind you, because he was in Space instead of Cuba) that Aesh was smirking in victory back in the hall, his boney nose mocking Voltron. This needed to end. The whole idea of beating around the bush with multi-layer speeches wasn’t working, Allura was going about this all wrong. Lance needed too...he needed too...well, he knew what he needed to do. If Voltron was going to ripe that perfect Surreȃn picture to shreds, they would need to do it Lance style. Straightforward and brash.

“Hey, Shiro. Shiro,” The omega spoke, quiet at first, then louder. He forced himself to real his scent in, to hold the preheat in further.

“Yes, Lance?”

“I have an idea.”

“Wow, two ideas in one day? This must be a record or something,” Pidge commented, finally lifting her eyes from her tiny wrist. The display clicked off.

Lance explained his plan. Allura and Pidge nodded. Keith relaxed his shoulders and pulled away from the impending form of Shiro’s shoulders.

“Okay, okay. That could work,” Shiro agreed.

 

Allura had managed to land Lance a private meeting with Aesh. He wasn’t quite sure how, but he figured the dark-skinned princess had simply worked her regular magic or something. Either way, Lance was alone now as he paced along a large silver balcony that peered over the skyline of the mountain city. A voiceless Surreȃn had walked him to the exposed outcropping, where Lance assumed he was to wait for the Prince. The omega compulsively scrubbed his arm across his face as he paced. The beta scent was absent and Hunk’s naturally comforting musk dissipated with every second Lance waited. Aesh better arrive soon or Lance was going to suffer one major mental breakdown. And then approximately five hundred more after that.

The glass wall behind the Cuban teen slid open. Lance was blinded by the glare for a moment, but from behind the reflective curtain, Aesh stepped out. Well, more of floated out. The omega dropped his arm to face the hooded prince.

“Prince Aesh, I happy to see you decided to join me.” Lance needed to be formal for at least a little while. Aesh was stone cold and guarded, the ol’ razzle-dazzle would be too much, too fast.

“Yes, Blue Paladin, I have agreed to your meeting. I am confused, however, at why it was necessary?” Aesh tilted their head, but it only caused a small shift in the shoulder length chains. Lance crept closer, careful to keep his head tucked close, in case the Surreȃ could smell human dynamics.

“I wanted to privately in order to get to know you better. Voltron has so little knowledge of Surreȃ and its people. What better way than to meet with the most welcoming of the paladins.”

“Blue Paladin-”

“It’s Lance”

“Lance, there is no need to flatter yourself unnecessarily. I do not doubt your well-mannered charisma or value, but I can smell the uncertainty on your skin. It is as thick as your red friends’ anger.”

“You can smell the emotions of others?” Lance exclaimed. Humans had the ability to sense extreme emotions, the intensity of hate, distress, or lust, but not Keith’s mild frustration or the half-strength distress Lance was constantly smothering away deep inside. That level of sensory was so deep, so unimaginably telling. No one had ever detected the pain in the Omega's blood, the way his scent turned unbearably salty when in anguish. Surely, if this alien (though Lance usually tried to avoid that incredibly broad word) could sense the brackishness of Lance’s pain, he could sense the origin underneath. 

“Of course, are humans unable to? We know you share the same dynamic system as the Surreȃ. I can smell the omega on you now, even with your vain attempts to block it.” Aesh looked onto Lance with confusion, but he didn't look back.

Lance backed away, his eyes cast down at his feet. This wasn’t what he was here for. Lance was supposed to figure out what Aesh was up to, not the other way around. His mouth gaped open. They couldn’t know. They couldn’t. He had spent so long, so long pretending. It couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not in the middle of this.

“What?” He croaked, eyes dancing like mad around the exposed balcony. His omega side prickled, begging for protection and safety. An alpha.  _ No, _ Lance corrected himself,  _ he couldn’t submit to himself now, there was still time _ .

“You are surprised, human?” Aesh spoke strangely so that human came out more like umun. Lance nodded. “I see now, the Surreȃn sense of smell is stronger than yours. I must ask, however, why you act so surprised by this news? You seem wary of your omegan side?” The omega hesitated. Maybe Aesh had only just learned of his dynamic, had not yet spread the news to ears not ready to hear it.

“Let’s just say, omegas are not given the best treatment on Earth,” Lance attempted to explain, hugging his arms tightly around himself. It was difficult to lament about the challenges of your life to a faceless character. “So, if you’re smart, you pretend to be a beta.”

“Oh,” Aesh said, “I never realized that omegas were treated as less in other cultures. Here on Surreȃ, dynamics play very little into our culture. That...primitive past of ours has washed from our society long ago.”

“But you’re a prince, right? Don’t you travel to other planets all the time?” Lance asked.

“Yes, I am a prince, but there is more to that story. A story that you have already guessed at.” Lance perked at the prince’s words. There was something happening here, something only Lance had been able to see.

“The Surreȃn are dying, aren't they?” Lance asked, lowering his voice to a whisper. Aesh lowered his head in response.

“Yes, we are dying. The Galra have been pursuing the Surreȃ Conference for some time now. Around two deca-phoebs ago, a Galra cruiser landed on Surreȃ and began attacking our people. They killed many, but my parents, the rulers of that time, fought them off, pushed them back onto their ship. We thought it was over, but that’s when it began to rain. A thick, heavy rain. We thought it was just a storm, but a few weeks later we realized what was going on. The Galra poisoned us through the rain, tainting our air, water, and soil. My parents died only weeks later, and I took the throne. We’ve tried everything, but nothing works. The healthy get sick, the sick get sicker, and sicker die. Voltron was out last hope. We need medical assistance, but we have no army, nothing to offer anymore. I haven’t traveled since the sickness, since I was young, ” Aesh spoke with a washed away sorrow and Lance couldn’t help but think the Prince was younger than he ever imagined.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have no need to, it’s not any fault of Voltron.”

“That doesn't mean I can’t sympathize with you.”

“You’re too kind for this war, Lance. Too kind.” Lance paused for a moment.

“If you explain the situation to Allura, I’m sure she will offer to help. Voltron is willing to give without needing to receive.”

“I fear it is too late for that. My court has lied and faked its way through too many conversations.” Once again, Lance wondered for the masked alien’s age.

“How old are you Aesh?”

“In your Earth years, fourteen.” The Cuban wasn’t surprised.

“So you began ruling at eleven?” They nodded. “You say I am too kind for this war, Aesh, but you are too young.”  
“I find that in times of war, the importance of age diminishes.” Aesh turned to face away from Lance. It was strange to look at them now, knowing they had barely left childhood. It made sense now, the youth in their voice, their wary nature. Lance stepped forward to rest a hand high on Aesh’s shoulder.

“I think you underestimate the abilities of others. They will help you, as long as you are vulnerable to their assistance. I will bring your story to the other paladins. We will help your people,” Lance whispered the words like a secret promise between elementary school lovers. Then he turned and walked back toward the glass. Aesh was barely a teen, but Lance if was Surreȃn, he would be able to smell the potential on the young prince.

“Lance, if you want to keep your secret, you better return home soon. You smell sweet, even to a human, now.” Lance stopped to look back at Prince Aesh.

“If you wouldn’t mind, please don’t men-”

“I won’t, Blue Paladin Lance, I won’t.” As Lance walked away, he was certain Aesh’s mouth would stay shut.

 

Lance relayed his knowledge to Voltron but scurried off quickly. Hunk had huddled close to him, putting of as much scent as a beta could, but Lance knew it wouldn’t work. He ran from his best friend’s side, claiming he was sick. The alphas stayed back as he ran, retreating to his makeshift nest. He relied on Allura to make the deal, to finish it all off. For now, Lance needed to rest and regain himself.

 

He returned to Blue, crawling into his seat. Lance could make it, he only needed to get to the castle, back to his suppressants. He would make it. He would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Lance make it?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is dying (or so he thinks) and Pidge is hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait! I cannot believe I took this long to update! Anyway, what's done is done. I know this chapter is short and I ended it before I REALLY wanted to, but I figured it was best to update with something short, rather than nothing at all.
> 
> School ends this week, so I will hopefully have more time to write (not making any promises).
> 
> I am so amazed at all the support I have received, even while I was away! Each and every one of who make my days with your comments and kudos! They are my life!
> 
> If you have any questions about the story or me in general, feel free to live them in the comments! As always, my work is unedited.
> 
> Love,  
> Mellie

The Blue Lion was a mess, Lance decided after his mad scramble to make it inside. A pile of blankets and stolen dirt laundry stood in the corner with other nik-naks forming a planetary ring around the stack. A small trash heap of water packets occupied the opposite corner. Not to mention the helmet and body armor discarded in the pilot seat. Lance had stripped it off almost the first second he was locked away safe and secure, freeing his flushed cheeks and sweat-damp hair.

He was sure it was just preheat nesting instincts, but his omega was itching to clean and organize because that would be safe. Didn’t Lance want to be safe? And, yeah, sure he did but pleasing his dynamic’s every whim was not the way to stave off heat. His plucked a blanket from the tangled pile and escorted himself to his chair, where his armor was swiftly brushed onto the floor.

Lance curled up in the chair, thinking. He had two hours, maybe three, before he could take an emergency dose of surrpresents back at the castle. The heat he was experiencing wasn’t full blown. No, this was a heat created purely out of hormone shock.

A healthy omega experienced a heat every three to four months, depending on age, exercise, and stress levels. They could also be trigger by the rut of presentation of an alpha, but this was rare and limited to only the most powerful. Like Shiro, which wasn’t great for Lance. Still, suppressants would prevent any heat of any sort from happening, no matter the number of alpha encounters. The pills were small and relatively cheap, but they had their downsides. After an extended period on the drug, an omega might begin to experience health problems due to hormonal imbalance. They might also go through the unfortunate occurrence of a shock heat, the result of a sudden surge of chemicals throughout the body. These chemicals functioned as a set of tiny catalysts, speeding up the return of omega instincts.

Wasn’t Lance just so lucky?

He scrubbed his hands over his face, releasing both a wave of pheromones and curse words. It couldn’t all be bad, there had to be an upside. 

He contemplated for a moment.

There didn’t appear to be a bright side, a silver lining, or flip side. Not a single one. Omegas simply weren't taught how to delay a shock heat. In fact, these special heats were handled with extreme caution, as the suppressants could cause permanent damage if an omega was sent into a drop during a shock heat. Lance cursed loudly again. The Blue Lion responded with a harsh purr in his mind, a quick and silent reprimand. 

“Okay,” Lance said. “So maybe I won’t be completely disowned by the team. Maybe I’ll be allowed to stay on the ship and help clean, if I survive the actual heat.”

The lion scoffed in his head. Lance ducked his head sheepishly. It felt almost too much like when his mother would smack him upside the head and whisper  _ Don’t talk about yourself like that, Lance. You’re fine the way you are _ .

“Fine. I won’t die. I mean, shock heats are quicker than regular heats and, well, I haven't even gone into heat yet. I still have time,” He whispered.

_ There you go. You are going to be fine. You’re a strong one, my son. _ Lance couldn’t tell what voice was speaking in his mind, but he didn’t mind anymore. She was soothing and strong and he needed that.

Lance moved his hands down from his face to his knees. This was fine, he could make it.  He would stay inside Blue until the team made it back to Castle of Lions, and then he would wait for everyone to go debrief with Allura on the bridge and he would scurry back to his room to take his pills. It was a simple plan, and he had Hunk to play backup if all went to hell.

The boy stood and walked around the perimeter of his cockpit, tugging a blanket around his shoulders as he moved. The mind was settled, but the heart was not. The comm rang on Lance’s helmet.

“Lance, are you there? Can you hear me?” Allura asked. The boy tugged his helmet on and voiced a noise of agreement. “We’re heading back to the lions ask we speak. The Surreȃ were delightfully agreeable after Aesh explained the situation. That poor boy. So young. Too young”

“Yeah, younger than Pidge even. By the way, what did you end up offering Aesh in the end?”

“Voltron offered the Surreȃ Conference a comfortable amount of medical supplies and resources. We do not currently have the time to investigate the disease these people are subjected to, but we can at least comfort them in their last moments.”

“Hunk’s going to be upset with that.”

“Yes, but there are no other options.” Lance sighed at Allura’s absolute. He voiced no response.

“Lance, the team has arrived back at the lions, are you ready for take-off?” Shiro cut off the boy’s conversation with Allura.

“Yup. All good up here,” He said, plopping down in the pilot chair with a blanket still rucked up around his waist. Lance saw the team outside of Blue’s eyes. They were splitting off into the individual ships, with Allura taking a ride in Black. The Cuban lolled his head back and inhaled. The breath pushed his rib cage to the max, but it felt nice, like that first stretch after being cooped up in a car for too long. He held the breath until it burned his insides, a fiery heat spreading through his blood. When he exhaled, he could think again. A deep breath, a force restart, they were one in the same.

Shiro fired Black’s jets and took her to the skies, so Lance followed.

 

The castle is a whole different story. The crew is used to seeing Lance after a mission, his mindless chatter, and reckless wide fidgeting. They gathered outside of Blue and waited for him, helmets grasped under their arms. Lance hesitated in his chair with his hand halfway between the call button and the ramp switch. Hunk looked up from the small group, staring mindlessly into Blue's eyes.

Lance attempted to communicate with him.  _ Please Hunk, make them go away. Just send them to the kitchen, the bridge, the training desk, anywhere. _ Lance thought, wondering if whether or not Blue could communicate in Hunk’s mind like she could in his. Probably not. Lance wanted to cry, but Pidge cut him off.

“Yo, Lance. Are you coming? I'm starving,” she screamed up at him.

There, that was an out. Lance was saved. This time, literally.

“Go ahead. I'm just going to spend some solid girl time with Blue for a bit. To catch up and...yeah,” Lance spoke through his comms.

“Are you sure? We can wait, Lance?” Damn Shiro and his ever existing need to be kind and accommodating. Lance hesitated before speaking.

“Really, it fine!” The Cuban hoped he hadn't sounded overeager. Fortunately, Pidge’s hunger won over in end.

“Let’s just go. He’ll meet up with us eventually,” She said, tugging at Shiro’s arm in an attempt to move him. Shiro cast a concerned look up at Blue.

“Are you sure, Lance?” He asked.

“Yup. One hundred percent positive.”  _ Oh God, this could not be over soon enough _ .

“Yeah, Lance will be fine,” Hunk finally chimed in. Lance prayed with all his might that Shiro would leave and stop being so damn helpful for once.

The last comment seemed to have done the Black Paladin in, as Shiro sighed and waved goodbye to Lance. The team took their leave from the hanger and Lance relaxed back into his pilot’s chair. Despite the heat beginning to thrum throughout his body, he pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders and chest.

Finally. Finally, he could solve this problem and rejoin the team and once again try to forget how much of liar and disappointment he was.  He could finally suppress this heat back where it belonged, in the deepest and most desolate reaches of Lance’s mind. 

Lance sighed into his blanket, tucking his nose into the soft fabric. It was a nesting habit, to surround himself with soft and warm things, to curl up and relax. It was harmful to indulge the omega side of himself, Lance knew that, but he couldn’t help it, not in this moment of weakness. The action was almost involuntary. 

The teen snapped out soon enough. He stood from the confines of his pilot chair and discarded the blanket in the corner, where his omega sent would die out after a few days. Lance didn’t have much time to begin with. He lowered Blue’s ramp and scurried out, half jogging out of the hanger. He needed to get to his pills and his scent blockers. Now.

The corners of the castle ship were sharp, but Lance raced around them anyways, skidding into walls and doorways. His destination was imprinted in his mind like a constant storm of computer commands to get to his room and take his pills, just to get to his room and take his pills because no one,  **no one** , could find out.

Lance slammed into his bedroom door, his right shoulder taking the impact as it collided with the castle wall. That was going to leave a mark. The door couldn’t seem to open fast enough. Finally, the Omega was able to run inside his room, turning to slide into his bathroom. Lance reached for the pill bottle on the counter and down two of the capsules in one go.

There, it was done. Lance had made it. He had experienced the closest call of his life, but he had made it. He was safe. He was at the castle, he had taken his surpresents, and no one had found out.

Lance threw his head back, running his hands down his face. Everything hurt, like the full body aches he got after long runs or intense training. Hiding was exhausting. It was complicated and it was messy. He was safe, but at what cost? Sooner or later the team was going to come knocking with a whole slew of questions and Lance was going to have to come up with something. Some lie that would fake his way through a conversation he was not prepared to have.

Shiro’s gentle concern, Keith’s less gentle variety, Coran’s paternal love. He wasn’t ready for that, because Lance was a lying, twisted, self-loathing mess. How could he possibly show others what he could see himself?

The team knew Lance as loud and confident and barely anything more. He was skin-deep, or at least his facade was.

  
The teen curled tight, willing his body to become even smaller until the shock-induced pre-heat passed, until the remnants of omega were washed from his system. That’s what Lance needed right now, to shower and clean all the dark parts of his soul from his skin. To think about dinner and training with the team and visiting the space mall. Anything but the ever-present thoughts of, _How long can I keep this up? How long before it kills me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, Call Me By Your Name has broken me.
> 
> -Mellie


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance talks, Keith gets angry, and things get better (or do they?).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this, and with that, I mean, sorry for the angst and my absence.
> 
> This chapter is angsty at the end, I would apologize, but I'm not sorry. Still, the main plot is really going to pick up after this chapter, so stay tuned.
> 
> As always, my work is unedited, so there may be spelling/grammar errors. I appreciate and love every comment and kudos left on this fic, so please keep them coming!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I can't believe this fic has over 11,000 hits! I never expected it to be this successful!
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Love,  
> Mellie

When Lance woke the next morning, a tray was resting at the foot of his bed with a large bowl of food goo and a short note from Hunk, expressing his concern and love for Lance.  The said Cuban drained the bowl quickly, then removed himself from his bed.

“Better now then never,” He said to himself. Lance’s room and conjoining bathroom were a mess from the previous night’s escapades. After the ordeal to even make it to his room, Lance had little energy to do anything but shower and drag his shivering form into bed. Sheets and clothing were strewn across the room and the bathroom looked like a late night TV show crime scene.

He readied quickly while cleaning the room, spraying everything with a heavy dose of scent blockers because, well,  **anxiety** .

 

The rest of the team was gathered in the lounge. Pidge and Hunk chatted loudly in the center, while Keith, Shiro, and Allura pulled further off onto the sides. Lance took a deep breath a dove in, jumping over the back of the coach.

“Hey, Hunk, my man. Thanks for the food goo, I was super exhausted last night after bonding with Blue.” If his words were a little too loud or his eyes too shifty, no one seemed to notice. Pidge just shot him a look of mild confusion and slight disgust. Neither Allura or Shiro even turned around. Keith was staring at him, which was  _ weird _ for the mullet, but nothing too out of the ordinary.  _ This is good, ignoring is better than suspicion, _ Lance thought. Then, of course, there was Hunk.

“Are you sure Lance, you looked pretty catatonic when I went into your room last night. Like, completely dead. Which, speaking of dead, it looked like something might have died in your room? And that is so gross-” Hunk rambled.

“I’m great, Hunk. In fact, I’ve never felt better. There is no need to be concerned and start sharing things.” Lance gave the Samoan a pointed look.

“Yeah, Hunk. Lance just naturally looks two steps away from dying.”

“Thanks, Pidge.”

 

After lunch, Shiro called the team in for a mandatory training and debrief, which was standard the day after a mission, especially one with as many plots twists as this last one. Lance arrived with Hunk, who had been keeping a keen eye on him all day (no matter how much Lance protested), and Pidge.

Pidge had teased Lance all morning about his weird behavior, and the Cuban was beginning to worry that the team wasn’t going to forget this time. But, hey, it was fine if they caught on, they might just end up hating him and ditching him on any random planet. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t  **fine** , but Lance figured the best way to escape the events of yesterday was just to completely ignore them.

Shiro and Keith were already waiting when Lance arrived. The two huddled together in the center of the deck, though there must have been twenty feet of free space on all sides. And if Keith was curling his arm around Shiro’s back, Lance pretended not to notice it, or the way his chest tightened.

_ Act natural, Lance. Act natural, _ he thought.

“Hey, Mullet! Are you willingly participating in physical contact of the nonviolent sort? I didn’t know you knew how!” Of course, acting natural meant being an ass, because sometimes Lance just couldn’t win. Keith’s head whipped around to glare at Lance, his arm sliding downward to tighten around Shiro’s waist. Keith wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge of any nature.

“What’s it to you? Never experienced it before?” Keith shot back. He leaned forward and widened his feet, shifting in front of Shiro. The stance was protective by nature, one that Lance had only witnessed when an alpha was defending their significant other. Lance stepped forward with Keith, closing the distance between them. Maybe Lance wasn’t the best when it came to the dating department, but Hunk was plenty affectionate with him.

“No! But I don’t think you have, loner! My family hugs me every time they see me!” Keith launched forward at the comment. Okay, so that was a low blow, probably should have stayed off the topic of family. Lance scrambled backward, flailing his arms like a madman. The alpha struck at his shoulders, and Lance fell backward. The blue and gray ceiling flashed before his eyes and his head pounded into the ground. Keith pounced onto Lance, whose head was swimming in instincts and the threat of a possible concussion. A flurry of skin and hair passed by. Keith’s knees dug into his thighs, which was distinctly not comfortable. He tried to protest, to tell to get off, that he was sorry, but Lance’s mouth wouldn’t open and couldn’t hear a thing outside the pounding of his head and the growling.  _ Oh _ , he thought,  _ Keith is growling. That’s rude _ . Then,  _ Why can’t I make a noise? _

Barely conscious, Lance turned his head to the side. He should submit, that would save him from all these troubles. Should just play the good little omega. Because he was an omega, right?

Lance’s vision blurred, then cleared to the point where he could see the ceiling once more, rather than a mess of black hair. He could move legs and arms again. That was funny, Lance couldn’t remember when his wrists had even been pinned down.

The world came back in pieces. First, Lance recognized the ceiling of the castle above him and Hunk hovering around the edges of his vision. Then, the sound of his breathing echoing across the room and Shiro whispering to a panting Keith. The door opened, then closed again, and the panting noise disappeared.

Hunk moved Lance to a seated position, allowing the shorter boy to lay across Hunk’s wide expanse of chest. That’s when it hit Lance. The  **smell** . It was heavy and sour and dark, like a high school boys locker room heavy with the scent of fear and control. It was the way bullies smelled in Lance’s dream. It was the memory of his father’s face, of his aunt’s sneer. It was the smell of a back alley mugging and the screaming of parents. It was the smell of pure alpha. Domination. Strong enough to prevent movement or vocalization. Especially in omegas.

Lance jerked in Hunk’s hold and the beta hugged him tighter, recognizing the very second when the scent struck Lance’s dynamic.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re fine. Allura set the room to filter out the scent as quickly as possible,” Hunk whispered in the omega’s ear. Across the room, Pidge hugged one of the corners of the room, holding a hand to her nose. She was barely standing, her knees shaking with effort. Shiro stood with ease, crossing his arms over his chest. Alpha pheromones had no effect on an alpha of equal or greater power. And Shiro was about as powerful as they came.

Lance eyed the heaviness of Shiro’s shoulders and the crinkle in his brow. The fists tucked under each arm. Disappointment. Lance had caused that, he had made his alpha reek of displeasure. And his other one, Keith, Lance had angered him to the point of attacking. What had he done? He was such a bad o-

Hunk clamped a hand around Lance’s throat, suppressing a whimper the Cuban hadn’t been aware he was about to make, preventing his head from falling to the side in an act of submission, an act of omega nature. Lance tensed under the hand, turning away from it. He had to submit. He had to show he was sorry.

“It’s not your fault, Lance,” Hunk stated, louder this time. “Keith was on edge, to begin with. It wasn’t your fault.” Lance’s breath wavered, but under the control of Hunk’s voice, he reigned himself in. At this point, the scent had weakened to the point that Pidge could stand and walk across the training deck, though her eyes remained downcast.

She crouched before Lance. Her knees enclosing around his calves. 

“Keith didn’t mean to either. You struck him in a place he was weak and he snapped. Keith doesn't feel weakness often, his actions were pure instinct. I mean, you probably should have stayed away from that subject, to begin with-”

“Pidge!” Shiro shouted from across the room, his focus finally pulled from the doorway that Keith had disappeared through. Lance shrunk away from the Black Paladin. This wasn't going to end well.

“What Pidge is trying to say,” Shiro continued, “is that Keith’s actions were of an instinct based nature and he should have better control, to begin with. He should never have used his alpha voice, to begin with.” Lance was shocked, to say the least. Shiro was anger at Keith? The two were dating and Lance had messed it all up, Shiro should be furious with him, not his boyfriend. But wait-

“Keith used his alpha voice?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, ordered you to shut up and everything. It’s not a surprise you couldn’t fight back. That’s the strongest concentration of alpha pheromones I’ve ever experienced. Hunk and I could barely stand and it wasn’t even directed at us.” Pidge explained, shrugging her shoulders in time with her words. Maybe his actions were not too suspicious then, maybe the others wouldn’t catch on.

“Oh. Where’s Keith?” Lance asked, his mind partially in shock from the amount of new information overloading his brain.

“I told him to take a breather, come back when he felt more in control of himself.” Shiro walked over to the other three paladins, standing above them. “Are you feeling better, Lance? Ready to train?”

And there it was, the other shoe had dropped. Pidge and Shiro could be concerned all they wanted, but Lance was still a beta to them, and alpha pheromones had only temporary effects on betas. An alpha would dominate them, but five minutes late they were ready to go again, to save the universe. An omega would need much, much longer to recover. Unfortunately, Lance was pushing his luck already, with two incidents in two days. He couldn’t afford to talk his way out of this one. Two times was a coincidence, three was a pattern.

Lance nodded his head and stood up. He stepped out of Hunk’s hold, ignored the tingling in his legs, and reached for his bayard, summoning his gun.

“Yup, I’m ready to go. No time to sit around and watch the space grass grow!” And, like always, no one noticed the mask, not when it was the only thing they knew.

 

It took about five days before Lance was able to corner Keith. The alpha had managed to not only avoided speaking with Lance, but interacting with him in the slightest. The boy had seen about two seconds of Keith in the past week.

Finally, Lance had snuck into the training room in the middle of the night where, big surprise, Keith was, training himself to death.

“Keith, you big broady mullet! You’re going to have to talk to me eventually!” Lance shouted of the dissemination of training bots. Keith whipped around, shredding a bot to pieces in the process. The sparks grazed the edge of Lance’s shoes.

“End simulation!” Keith shouted and the room fell to silence. Keith eyed up his exits, taking a half step to his left before deciding that this time was as good as any, so he better stay. Lance caught the alpha’s gaze. Keith held for about two seconds, before his eyes fell to the floor.

“What do want, Lance?” Keith asked. Now Lance had seen the Red Paladin in almost every mood. He had seen him anger and tired and scared and even, rarely, loving (though it was mostly angry), but he had never seen Keith look so  _ upset _ .

“I want to talk it out. You know, man-to-man, bro-to-bro. So that you can stop ignoring me alone and go back to ignoring me while surrounded with other people,” Lance said, flailing his arms. Keith let out a long winded sigh, one that made Lance physically tired.

“Look, I’m sorry, Lance. Is that what you want?”Okay, Lance had never heard Keith apologize, never to him at least.

“No!” Lance flinched at his own volume. “I want you to go back to eating dinner with everyone, to hanging out with Shiro in the common room, to joking around with Pidge. Look...we miss you, Keith. I get that what you did wasn’t my fault, but it wasn’t yours either. If anything, I’m mad at myself for going to a place I shouldn’t have. Please, Shiro looks about two steps away from the grave and Pidge is sleeping less than ever, which is to stay, she’s not sleeping at all,” Lance rambled, attempting to make Keith understand.

“Don’t be,” The alpha demanded, his eyes shooting up.

“What?”

“Don’t be mad at yourself, you couldn’t have known I was going to react like I did,” Keith explained, finally gaining the courage to look Lance in the face. Lance paused for a moment, his mouth hanging open. Was Keith defending him?

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Keith echoed.

The two stood in silence and a grin erupted on Lance’s face. Who knew Keith could be emotionally sensitive when he wanted?

“Do you want to go grab some food goo?” Lance asked, throwing his thumb over his shoulder to the door.

“Ah, sure.” The two walked out, a sense of peace between them and, if Keith grinned as Lance rambled to whole way to the kitchen, no one knew.

 

Keith joined the breakfast table the next morning with Shiro in tow and his face slightly less frowny than usual. Pidge shot Lance a look of confusion over her food goo, but, even in her sleep deprived state, her face lit up in understanding not a minute later. Lance glared at her, but the tiny girl just laughed under her breath. It was obvious that Pidge knew something, but Lance wouldn’t waste his time trying to uncover it. Pidge could lie like none other.

Of course, so could Lance. And, as the weeks stretched on and the concern from the Keith Incident faded away, so did the attention Lance received. Where Pidge absorbed herself in her work to find Matt, Keith did in his training, and Shiro in planning. Even Hunk was distancing himself from the omega. But it was fine, right? The Keith/Shiro relationship had survived contact with the enemy, as Shiro seemed to have worked out whatever animosity he had felt toward Keith. The couple were smelling more like each other with every passing day. Pidge was sleeping for once in her short life, which made Lance’s internal self preen. Everyone was happy, he was taking care of his friends. The missions were going well, too. The Voltron Coalition was stronger than ever. Aesh had recently messaged that a cure for their planet’s disease was becoming more of a reality all the time. Everything was going well. So, Lane must feel great right?

Wrong. No matter how good of spirits the team was in, Lance couldn’t shake the feeling that his instincts were growing stronger and his strength was growing weaker. But he didn't have time for this, he didn’t have time for his dynamic, to deal with that he wasn’t sleeping at night. So he kept on lying. Like he always did. Like he always would. Because no one ever noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, Shiro is gay!!!!!!!!!!!! This is so amazing! I am pumped for season 7!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance makes a suggestion and things look both better and worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm not dead!
> 
> I have a million excuses to give about why this chapter is so late, but I'm just going to stick with the fact that I have a job and four AP classes. I tend to overextend myself sometimes.
> 
> Still, I'm so sorry about the wait. I'm even more sorry that after being offline for four months, that the chapter I wrote is so short. I wanted to give you something good, but I just didn't have the time to write a ton, so I decided to get the next part of major plot out before I spent too much time on anything. The next chapter will be better, I promise!
> 
> Anyway, my work is unedited, as usual, so all mistakes are accidents and my own. I work very hard on everything I write, so I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> I love each and every one of you and all the comments and kudos you leave!
> 
> Love,  
> Mellie

Things were good for a while. The team went on missions, saved people, and generally functioned like normal humans. Or, well Alteans in Allura and Coran’s situations and Galra for Keith. Lance managed to hold himself together, keeping his secrets close to his chest.

Well, the truth was, things were not all that great for Lance. He was slowly slipping, he could tell. He slept less as nights and ate less during the day and just felt himself gradually have less and less to give. On Earth, this would have been a sign to stop taking suppressants, or at least to detox for a while. On Earth, Lance would have stopped popping his little pills months ago.

Space Lance couldn’t afford to even think about that.

Now, that was all not fine and very much not dandy, but the worst part about Lance situation was that it was becoming increasingly more and more temporary. Every morning, Lance checked his suppressant supply, but, sadly, more did not just appear out of thin air. He was running desperately low and the last of his supplies would last two weeks? Maybe three if his heat was starved off by stress or exhaustion?

Lance knew there must be a space equivalent of suppressants somewhere. If Coran and Allura had dynamics, then certainly other species would too. The a/b/o dynamic could not be unique to only two species in the entire universe.

So far, Lance’s plan was to convince Coran that the crew needed to return to a swap moon or space mall and Lance would sneak off and go search for a new supply of drugs. It wasn’t difficult to convince Coran that he was in need of something new, all Lance had to do was ask any random question about life with Alfor or on Altea and the redhead would launch himself into a dramatic story that was sure to end in Coran discovering that he must simply have an object used 10,000 years ago.

Allura, however, was proving more difficult to persuade. The princess was pressing the Paladins to train harder every day. They had cardio in the morning and simulations in the afternoon and weight training in the evening. Even when Lance was feeling his best omega self, a training regime like that was nearly impossible to keep up.

Lance felt hopeless. He was stuck between a rock and hard place. Hunk was busy in the kitchen all the time these days and Pidge had delved deeper into the Matt rescue mission. He had nowhere left to turn.

The team didn’t even seem to notice how withdrawn Lance was these days. He barely ate at meals, but that was easy to disguise behind a bit of showmanship about how absolutely disgusting the food goo was that day. What really got Lance, though, was that Hunk didn’t notice that Lance stopped coming to his room late at night. Lance’s skin was always crawling these days, itchy and painful with overstimulation. He couldn’t bear the thought of touching someone who wasn’t any alpha for any longer than a few minutes. But Hunk didn’t say anything, he didn’t come looking for Lance, and he didn’t ask if he was okay.

_ Some friend, _ Lance thought, but it was quickly followed with,  _ but I probably deserve it anyway. It’s not like this is Hunk’s secret to keep, he obviously disagrees with me about it. I shouldn’t blame him for my actions. I should take this burden on myself. _

It was fine if the team didn’t notice that Lance pulled away. He had always been too loud and too annoying and too much. In retrospect, Lance though, he probably wouldn’t like himself much each. 

 

Lance was awake before the rest of the team. He sat in the dining room in his normal spot at the dining table just staring at the wall. His eyes burned with exhaustion, but he couldn’t find the energy in his body to close them. Lance knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, between the medicine and the guilt of lying. 

The rest of the team would be up soon anyway.

A while later, Shiro entered the dining room, the automatic doors swishing open to let him enter like he was the prince in a dramatic epic sci-fi novel. He looked dignified and proud even in the early morning hours. Shiro was the kind of person who always stood tall and never let their shoulders drop.

Lance wished he was like that, that he could carry the kind of air that the alpha did. Shiro didn’t just make people listen, he made people want to listen.

Keith was nothing like that. He stumbled into the dining room even grumpier than usual, his hair only half brushed and his eyes downcast.

Lance loved them both of them in the morning. He loved them any time of day, when Shiro got lethargic in the afternoons and when Keith had his midnight bursts of energy. Lance wanted to spend every second with them, morning, noon, or night. It was a tragedy of epic sorts, that Lance was destined to pine after the two alphas to entirely. Lance didn’t mind though, he thought that if pining for Shiro and Keith was all he did for his entire life, then it would be a life well spent. The alphas deserved to be worshiped and loved and if worship was all that Lance could do, then he would do it. It wasn’t like he, with all of his lies, deserved them anyway. They were happy.  **They were happy.**

The remainder of the team wandered in over the next ten minutes or so, ending with Pidge storming into the room like a gremlin and slumping over the table, their glasses clinking against the metal surface. Lance took that as meaning the search for Matt had hit another dead end. He reached over and offered a consoling pat on the back. His omega wanted to help the girl, to do anything to make her feel better.

“Everything alright, Pidge?” Shiro asked, ever the consider alpha. 

“No,” She spat out.

“What’s wrong?” Allura asked. Bless her heart, but the princess could be a little detached from the Paladin’s mental states at times. Hey, everyone had their faults.

“I’m just tired,” Pidge mumbled out. Everyone at the table knew it was more, but the girl would probably snap their heads off if they asked another question this early in the morning.

Suddenly, Lance saw his opportunity.

“Actually, Princess, I think the whole team has been feeling a little worn out lately. I think, maybe, that a break might help.” He took it. The princess turned to face him with her eyebrows raised, as if to ask, ‘Really, Lance?’. Hunk shook his head vigorously in agreement. Pidge groaned. Even Keith and Shiro seemed to perk up at the idea of getting away from the training deck and mindless missions for a day or two.

“Maybe we could go back to the swap-moon-space-mall-thing?” Lance proposed before anyone could jump in. He couldn’t afford to waste this opportunity now that he had it. 

“What a wonderful idea!” Coran exclaimed, energetically. Pidge and Keith flinched at the noise and Lance wanted to. Wanted to shield himself away in his room or maybe publicly submit. Both were very bad options.

“Then it’s settled then. How about tomorrow?” Shiro asked. Coran nodded in agreement and dashed off away from the table to prepare his shopping list. 

Lance sagged in relief, picking at his food goo. He would be safe, at least for a little while. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the lie would come to an end eventually, but, just maybe, he could squeeze a few more months out of the dream he was living in. The dream where he stood a chance with Keith and Shiro; or even had the opportunity to see them daily. 

Lance looked over at the couple, who were exchanging soft words between the two of them. The space between their bodies was smaller now, more intimate. Lance felt like he should look away so that he didn’t come off as a creepy stalker or something, but he couldn’t, not when the two of them looked and sounded and smelled so perfect. Lance couldn’t place it before, but in that second, he understood.

Where Lance smelled like pain and distress, Keith and Shiro smelled like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voltron may be over, but this fic is not. Who knows, I might even write something else when this is all said and done. 
> 
> Comment any questions you might have and I will try to answer them.
> 
> HAPPY HOLIDAYS! STAY SAFE AND HAVE FUN!
> 
> Love,  
> Mellie


End file.
